


Not Houseplants Anymore

by CheyanneChika



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley (Good Omens) being Existential, Crowley Loves his Houseplants (Good Omens), Ficlet, Gen, Headcanon, Sweet Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyanneChika/pseuds/CheyanneChika
Summary: What really happens to Crowley's houseplants when they're taken away.





	Not Houseplants Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> One of my friends linked this Twitter post: https://twitter.com/_alexrowland/status/1137817283705868289 in our Good Omens chat and I thought, you know, he yells at the plants but I don't know that he could bring himself to snuff out all that life, even to torture himself. And so I had a new headcanon in seconds so thank you!!!!

Crowley was living a lie. 

The truth was, he couldn’t kill his plants.

Oh, he was fine with terrifying them into being perfect while they were in his home but…

Even if they blighted, he couldn’t kill them.  Not that he’d ever mention that to anyone.

When he found a plant with a spot, he scooped it up and carried it from the room as the other plants shook in absolute terror.

He flipped on the garbage disposal and went outside, using the buzz to mask the sound of the door opening and closing.

The plant was very confused, amid its terror of impeding death.

“Can’t have you telling the others about this,” Crowley told the plant as he came to the pocket dimension he’d created in his garden.  Because he really, really, really couldn’t tell anyone else about this, not even the angel.

Here were hundreds of houseplants.  All of them were still utterly beautiful, but here there were flaws.  Stubby leaves here and brown spots there but they were all alive.

Alive.

Crowley set the plant aside and grabbed a trowel that was conspicuously right where he needed it.

As he began to dig, he also began to talk.  “I was never particularly good at killing anything.  I just liked to stir up trouble.  Low-grade evil and the like.  And, I mean, the plants in the house have to be perfect because they’re houseplants.  Houseplants _in_ the house need to be perfect but if they live _outside_ the house, then that’s alright then.  Cuz see, in hell, I had to be evil.  But on Earth…maybe I don’t have to be evil all the time.  And I think Aziraphale likes it better when I’m not evil. Or less evil.”

The hole was completed and Crowley carefully lifted the plant out of its pot and place it into the ground before refilling the hole around it.  The plant felt the joy and brightness of the other plants in this secret space where they weren’t traumatized on the regular.  Forty-some years of supposedly killing plants had amassed all this life.

It was beautiful, flaws and all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!! I love you all.


End file.
